Rassilon's Rebel
by The Wizard's Daughter
Summary: This is the second tale in the Rassilon trilogy. After Ala has been taken back by the Gallifreyan government,she becomes a sleeper agent for the C.I.A. But upon discovering this, will Ala remain what she is, or will she find the true meaning of what it means to live by trusting one's heart?
1. Chapter 1

The Opera house towered above me as I hurried with Meg into its dark interior. In the gloom I could see her blond hair bobbing up and down with her gangly run, almost like a gazelle with a blond mane.

" Hurry Christine, we are going to be late." She half giggled back at me, her hands trying to pull her dress back together before her mother saw her. We were enjoying the company of the stable boys when we saw the clock and realized we were late for the dance rehearsal. Running back, we discovered that we were actually early for the rehearsal, and we had to listen to Carlotta bellow out the new play.

It was based off the story of a man who slowly lost his mind as he grew, and pushed his daughter away until the very end, which he tells her that he loves her and dies. The song was called " Scaretale." It was meant to be the song that represented the madness that the man had, but with Carlotta singing it, I knew we would all go mad.

" There you two are. Get into position, your part is next." Madame Giry snapped at us and I felt the end of her cane whack me in the shin. Running to my place with my leg stinging, Meg and I smiled to each other before our cue. I didn't know how long we danced the same scene over and over again, but it was Carlotta's fault, not ours; She kept missing her cue. Instead she was petting her Hyperion cat. Sometime in the middle of all of this, a pair of men came on stage to observe us.

" Those must be the new managers they told us about." Meg murmured in my ear, but I was distracted by two of the other chorus girls. They both must have realized that the men were rich and wanted them as Guardians. I shuddered slightly at the thought. Having a man touch me in that way for money… Dismissing the thought I came face to face with the one man I had dreaded to see. It was Raoul the captain of the guard.

His blond hair was up in a ponytail, his dark blue eyes sparkled like the bubbles in a Ice bottle, and his well accented speech made all of them swoon. Personally, I hated the man.

" Raoul's family has decided to become the new patron to the theater." The words echoed through the building and swirled around me. I wanted to melt into the floorboards, never to be seen again. He and I went to the Academy together and all that time he tried to get me to be his mate. With him around now to check up on his precious theater meant he would be near me. As he spoke I suddenly felt a strange, but comforting feeling.

" _My Erik must be watching over me."_ A small chuckle filled my mind.

" _I am watching over you, my child. I can't leave out in the cold for so long." _His magnificent voice calmed, yet excited me at the same time. Smooth and level, it wrapped the words he said around me and like a blanket warmed me from the inside. Suddenly Raoul walked by, his eyes on me the entire time, but the look in them told me he could not see me.

" Thank you Erik." I muttered a bit too loudly. " So who is your erik?" Meg voice made me jump out of my skin.

" No one. Why?"

" Well, you did just say thank you as the cutest man I have ever met walked past."

" So?" My tone was bit too rough with her, and Meg suddenly grew red with anger and stomped off.

" Meg, I am sorry." I called after her, but she ignored me and continued walk across the stage in a huff and ran directly into Carlotta.

" Eggh. You little brat, I should whip you for that." Carlota screamed and I saw that in her pudgy hands she held a bowl of cream puffs, which she claimed were good for her skin, and now were spread all over her costume.

" I'm sorry." She stammered, but it was too late. Carlotta enjoyed whipping people and many Opera House employees had scars from where she caught them, and she already had it out, ready to give Meg a sound thrashing. Running in between both of them, I heard the whip crack and a lash of fire radiated over my back. It felt like someone had poured fresh acid onto my skin, my blood coating the wood stage in heavy gouts. Lying on my belly I watched it spread, every moment growing bigger. I could also hear Carlotta blaming me for making her use the whip, such and so on. Suddenly I felt hands grab my body and carry me off stage… "_Why to die somewhere else?_ " I wondered to myself, the world being a mix of mottled greens and blues. I must have been behind the set for the play. Everyone else was out on the stage probably avoiding the blood, my blood to win their chance to argue with Carlotta.

" _So this is how I am going to die_." I told myself when a soft pair of hands suddenly caressed my arms.

" _Shhh. You are not going to die_." It was the voice of my Erik, my angel, which meant I had to be dying. I felt him, I felt his hands followed by the warmth of his body as he carried me somewhere. When he set me down, I realized he had taken me back to my room in the dorms.

" _Lay here. I shall return."_ He told me and that is when I knew he was no celestial being. He had placed a gentle peck on my forehead, and it burned with a sense of unforgiving rage and unfulfilled revenge. Slowly my world dimmed as exhaustion and blood loss mingled together to allow sleep to take me. The last thing I could recall was a hand placed on mine, a hand that bore a scar on the inside.

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The name of the song and idea to the play belong to the band Nightwish, not me. Anyway R&R and if you want to, you can request to add a few things into the story that would make it better.


	2. Chapter 2

" _Erik. Why Erik?"_ Sherlock couldn't help thinking it. Out of all the things she could have called him Christine called him her angel. It was touching really, but Sherlock knew he was swimming in dangerous waters. It had been nearly twenty years since the accident and though the wounds had healed, the scars physically and emotionally remained fresh to him. But now his Christine bore a scar also. It gave him a sense of hope to see her injured like that; it allowed him to dream that she would understand what happened and that he would finally be accepted for who he was.

_" You're just fooling yourself. How could anyone look past that?" _Instinctively, Sherlock's hand went to his face to double check if his mask was still on. He created it after he found a pile of leather that the costume designers had left after the last opera. Picking out a cream sheet and a black sheet, Sherlock took them to his hideaway and began to make his masks. The black one was the first one he started with, its form and suppleness gave him the ability to make a full facial mask that covered all of his scars. The cream one though, was so willing to form. When he tried to make a full mask the leather cracked on the left side, leaving only part of the right unharmed. But when he tried it on, he discovered that it fit perfectly. After wearing it for a while, Sherlock forgot about it, it literally became a part of him and every now and again he would have to double check if it was still on.

Sherlock meandered through his gloomy kingdom avoiding contact with others at all cost. He knew that the superstitious freaks above him thought he was ghost or a phantom and ironically it worked for him. It gave him mobility and power over he weak-minded. Every month he was paid his salary of 20.000 joules, but having this done for twenty years did rack up a lot of cash, which he couldn't spend. That is when he heard her, a lonely voice singing softly as she cleaned off the stage. Her voice was a soprano, but it lacked body. Yet what startled him was that there was a rich sense of emotion that flowed upon the words and through him. Sherlock knew if he could train that voice, she could bring the audience to tears. That is when it began, his greatest mission, that held both secrecy and stealth, but what he didn't expect was love. It wasn't passion; he knew what that was after a few nights of spending some time alone with himself. No, this was different, it was stronger, purer, a feeling that made his hearts rage every time he saw Christine. Truthfully it made the great Opera Ghost cry in rage and hopelessness.

Lost in his thoughts, Sherlock made his way up to the rooftop to watch the sunset. Opening the skylight that was his entrance he came across the one person who he didn't want to see. Christine sat there, in the dirt and grime of the roof looking as beautiful and pure as ever. But she was wearing a pair of pants and a shirt that looked awfully familiar to Sherlock. A small chuckle escaped his throat and she whipped around violently to see who shared the sacred space with her.

" Who's there?" This wasn't the voice of a child or even a young woman. This voice was filled with confidence and pride and deep down inside Sherlock it reminded him of someone he used to know.

" It is only I little one." His voice always sounded strange to him, deep and resonating as if he was talking from a deep pit. He watched Christine relax, her body moving almost fluidly into a cross-legged position.

" You are not talking to me through thought Master. Why?" The question punched Sherlock in the gut and he knew the game was up.

" How long have you known?"

" Known that you were the Opera Ghost? Long enough." The curt reply startled Sherlock.

" If you knew for that long why didn't you tell me?"

" You needed to do it in you're own time. I couldn't or wouldn't force you to tell me the truth."

Sherlock wanted to cry. This young beauty knew who he was and didn't care at all.

_" Not until she actually sees you."_ The words burned bright against his eyes. It was with those words that Sherlock suddenly realized that she had planned this.

" And how long have you been following me?" She laughed. It rang around the statues and through Sherlock making his hearts ache for her even more. " That my dear sir, I shall keep to myself, thank you." And with that she was gone, back into the Opera House's warm body.

Sherlock leaned against the Apollo statue, his hearts racing and his mind off somewhere else. It had begun to snow, but his love was so pure that even the cold didn't bother him. She actually cares about him and he didn't even have to show her anything.

"Yet." He told himself. " Yet."

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I love making Erik look human, i makes him more desirable. Anyway R&R


	3. Chapter 3

" We need to bring her in." Rassilon's voice echoed through the cold chamber with its white walls and bare furniture. " I want you start Project Champion. Maybe if we can catch this bastard our treasury will be fuller." All around him, Rassilon could hear the faint ticks of nails as they hit the touch pads to activate their newest agent, Christine. She had been given a memory conversion of everything that she had ever experienced, which in a way hurt Rassilon too. She was his daughter, a bond that solidified over time and refused to give in. After the Memory convert though, they had implanted fake memories to make her a sleeper agent in the very place that held the very last of the Projects; the one man they couldn't even get close to. The other male was of no concern. The shock of everything forced him far into the wildness that surrounded the Citadel where he had probably died.

Watching the screen in front of him, he watched as Christine's chip was activated in her sleep to minimized damage to herself or someone else. Watching as she twitched, Rassilon felt a pang of emotion that radiated through him. He couldn't bear to watch it; instead he turned to the newest member of the C.I.A. or Celestial Intervention Agency.

" Raoul, thank you for coming." Raoul smiled to the Lord President and bowing politely, was given a seat by a waiting attendant.

" Thank you again for coming. I wish to discuss a proposition that you would find most agreeable."

" I would do anything for my Lord President." Raoul smiled and Rassilon no0ticed his teeth were surprisingly white. Trying not to focus on them, Rassilon asked if he would be willing to help him.

" I would like to woo and eventually marry the one at the Opera house named Christine. It would be of great gain to both of us."

" Why is that sir?" Rassilon couldn't help smiling. To have someone so enraptured to his idea was making him a little lightheaded with pride.

" Christine is my daughter." He watched happily as Raoul choked behind his ivory teeth.

" Your daughter?" Were the first words out of Raoul's mouth when he could finally speak again.

" Yes and if you marry her, then you will become the Lord President when I move on." There were those white teeth again, staring down Rassilon from across the table.

" My Lord President. I will gladly accept this assignment. When shall I begin?"

" Tomorrow, right after the opera. It would look natural." And with those words Rassilon dismissed him and his overly white teeth.

It was the Project Rebirth that still gave Rassilon nightmares. Dr. Rúmil had suggested the idea after he discovered the rapid sterilization of the Gallifreyan populace. He wanted to create three beings that had the intelligence and genetic ability to travel through time like Gallifreyans, but have the strength, stamina, and fighting skills of their enemies, the Pallanén. The only problem was that they needed three subjects, children that could undergo a full evaluation and made better. The first subject was the Crown Prince. He was the bastard son of the deceased Prince and a Pallanén woman he had raped. After finding whom the father was, the woman gave him up and was never seen again. The second subject was the Doctor's own child, an accidental Timelord who was slowly dying and would be a perfect candidate. The third though, fell into Rassilon's lap. He had found her on his doorstep one morning, and with no parent around, Rassilon took her in. But after a careful examination, he discovered that she was a true Timelord, Her father a Pallanén and her mother a Gallifreyan. After evaluation was done, the only thing that was needed was to have them reach sexual maturity and mate to create a new race of Timelords.

They took blood samples from each and taking certain chromosomes from each, created perfect little Frankensteins. The Prince went to take his place on the throne, learning each tricks and hoop he had to jump through. Dr. Rúmil decided to keep his son under lock and key to observe and study. Ala on the other hand, went home with Rassilon to learn how to live a normal life.

It was when they were brought back together that they were deemed too dangerous to be kept alive. The savage part of them made them hard to kill and the cunning part of them made it hard to track them The night they had caught Ala they lost the Prince and the one they named Khan, or the Beast.

"Lord President." The voice brought him put of his train of thought and looking up discovered one of the technicians. " She is ready?" The man stated metallically and Rassilon nodded, now ready for the oncoming storm.

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You know R&R


	4. Chapter 4

I awoke to soft piano music coming from within the Opera House. Looking at the clock I had on my dresser I saw that it was three in the morning and deep inside me I could feel a slight annoyance to the musician. "No one should be playing music at this god forsaken hour." I muttered to myself as I got out of bed and dressed. Wandering out into the now empty house I discovered that no one was playing at three in the morning.

" You're going mad." But walking back into my room, I could suddenly hear the music again, this time accompanied by a violin. Though it was soft, it was utterly exquisite. I could literally feel the emotion behind it, sorrowful yet hopeful. It drew me ever closer to the full-length mirror that came along with my room.

" Why is the music coming from behind the mirror?" Somehow I knew it was a stupid question to ask, but I asked it anyway. Staring at the mirror for what seemed like forever, I saw that it was actually see through and if it was see through…" Where is the latch?" Running my hands around the frame, I found it disguised as an angel holding a bouquet of roses in its petite hands.

" Sometimes Erik, you outdo yourself." Flicking the latch, I watched as the mirror slid aside to reveal a dark hallway lit by a torch at the far end. The stone floor was icy against my bare feet as I walked down the ever-brightening hallway until I reached the beacon. Beyond that, it was like pitch, the darkness seemed to ooze from the walls. Suddenly a sense of curiosity overwhelmed me and drove into the darkness and away from the light. If the was ever a metaphoric moment this was it as I turned my head ever so slightly to watch the light disappear into the night. I couldn't tell how long I walked, but not kicking anything or running into anything meant this was a well-traveled pathway. But who or what traveled it? As I gazed into the darkness, I felt my foot hit a loose block, stubbing my toe and depressing the block also.

" What the hell…" Out of the blackness came a noise like I had never heard before and I dropped to the ground quickly. The thing hissed by metallically and once more I heard the noise as I swung back to other way, this time hitting the wall on the far side. Sparks flew from the impact and I could see that it was a pendulum with a sharpened blade, slowly ticking down with every swing. On my hands and knees I crawled forward quickly to avoid the blade and came upon a pair of feet. Cold, they wiggled as my hands ran over the toes and up unto a pair of legs. Inch by inch I grasped at whatever this thing was until I was standing, the pendulum finally touching the ground with a bell like ring.

" Well, what do we have here?" His voice sounded more sensual when he whispered which I noticed all too well. " I didn't mean to disturb you Master…" Suddenly I felt his finger touch my lips ever so gently and I quieted.

" Are you alright? Sometimes my traps do work as well as I planned."

" How can you see in this darkness?" He laughed, his hands placed on my shoulders. " If I may?" I shrugged and I felt his lips touch my forehead ever so slightly, the flesh soft and supple. But as he moved to make the telepathic bond better, I felt something scrape my forehead. Reaching up, I touched his face, he flinched as he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, but with a firm hold on his shirt with my right hand I made sure he didn't move as I explored. He wore a mask, it seemed to be made of skin also, but unlike skin it wasn't warm. Following the seams, I discovered it was actually leather and I felt for the edge to find what was underneath.

" Please don't." Hid plea was heart wrenching.

" Its alright. I cannot see yet. Just let me touch." And gently pulling off the mask, I ran my hands over the right side of his face, feeling the skin curve and dip from scars. But I had lied to him, I could see him perfectly now, and the scars that were there. His scalp was ravaged but with the hair that had grown back, you couldn't really tell. As I continued to feel it, I saw that his lower part of his eye was lower than his left, but was caught me off guard was that his part of the right side of his nose was missing, leaving a dark patch. To make sure, I ran my finger over it and discovered that it was merely a shadow.

" What happened?" My voice sounded strangely childlike after what I had seen and felt.

" An accident." His voice had dropped and I could hear the sorrow in it.

" What accident?"

" I really don't want to talk about it."

" Why?

" You wouldn't understand."

" How do you know? Hmmm?"

"BECAUSE YOU ARE A CHILD CHRISTINE!" His voice echoed throughout the tunnel, filled to the brim with thunderous fury. " You will never understand what have gone through, or what I will have to go through for the rest of my life. Do you hear me?" I heard him snarl the last few words and I instinctively shivered. Pulling myself out of his arms I turned and walked past the now stopped pendulum.

" I do understand your pain, Erik. For I saw what you are and in my mind…' My words died on my lips as he grabbed me roughly by the arm and pulled me towards him.

" You saw it?" He nearly shrieked and I nodded swiftly. His anger suddenly dissolved into raging sorrow that momentarily overwhelmed my senses.

" I am sorry." I whispered and placed my hands on his shoulders, wanting to comfort my master.

" Get out." He whispered and shrugged of my hands. " I can help…" He stood up so fast that he nearly threw me into the wall.

" Get out!" He roared and I obeyed my feet pounding on the stone as I followed the path back to the mirror. Jumping back through it, I closed it and tumbled into my bed. Instead of coming after me, Erik just stood there, mask in hand with tears running down his face at what he just did to me.

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R&R people. Thxs


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock hated her; he hated her for wounding him like this, but he couldn't have been more thankful. Christine saw what he was and didn't care; yet he knew that he had just pushed her away. Looking up, he expected her to be standing there behind the pendulum waiting for him…She wasn't there.

" Christine!" The mournful cry ripped from his soul echoed through the tunnels like the cry of a wounded animal. He didn't know when he had began running, running upwards to her, not downwards towards his home. He needed her and he knew that if she didn't forgive him, he would never forgive himself.

* * *

I heard him cry out my name and a sharp pain lanced through me. "Damn you Erik!" I hissed through clenched teeth as I could hear him fumbling with the latch, followed by a frustrated roar. When he had finally clicked it open, I was up and ready for any rebuke my master was ready to give me. But to my surprise, he fell at my feet, his head in my lap, sobbing for my forgiveness. I didn't feel pity though; I felt love. It was the type of love that made one's heart leap at the mere thought of their lover.

" I am so sorry." He whispered over and over again and reaching down I hugged him. His strong hands pulled me down unto the floor with him, where I held him, his face pressed into the nape of my neck.

" I forgive you. Will you forgive me?" My words seemed so fragile, so empty as I snuggled against Erik, tears also falling from my eyes, but he nodded slowly. That is when I realized he didn't have his mask on and that I could feel every scar on my skin. I pulled away to admire this brave man who fought his own fear of others to show me why he was shunned, only to have him try to hide it.

" Let me see Erik."

" Why, so you can see what the face of a true monster looks like?" His anger made him move and I quickly caught hold of his face in my hands.

" No, so I can do this." I leaned forward; time seemed to slow for me as I kissed him, his lips were firm but surprisingly soft and smooth. The kiss deepened, on his accord, not mine as I began to run my fingers through his thick black hair. Suddenly he pulled back, and I felt his teeth cut open my lower lip. The blood was salty and it coated our lips like red lipstick.

" You're bleeding." He whispered as his finger wiped it away. " It was you who cut me, so I think we're even." He laughed quietly, it being soft and calming on my exhausted nerves. Placing my head back unto his chest, I realized I was sitting in his lap, his long legs wrapped around me. Erik seemed to know what I was thinking and wrapped his long arms around me also, holding me close. Breathing in his scent of cedar and peppermint, I felt the world tilt out from under me as I quietly fell asleep in my angel's arms.

* * *

Sherlock felt her fall asleep in his arms, every breath she took timed perfectly with his.

_" If this is what love is, then it is the most painful thing I have ever felt."_ Sherlock told himself as he quietly untangled himself from around her and lifted her gently into her bed. She wouldn't actually let go though when he went to remove himself from her room. Instead the moment she heard the latch flick open, Sherlock saw her awaken.

" I am just going to get my mask. I'll be right back." He whispered and with one eye open, she watched him leave. He never had run so fast in his life. Jumping over the pendulum, which he knew he would have to put back in the morning, picked up his mask, turned and ran back to his Christine. She was already asleep by the time Sherlock came back in, but she had left an open space for him on the bed, which he gladly took. Placing the mask on her nightstand, Sherlock turned off the light and turning over, placed his hand over hers and quickly fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The door opened slowly to my room as Sherlock slept against Christine. Her breathing matched his still, calm and soothing, something to watch her warm body when he caught the whiff of cream. Sherlock panicked slightly and staying completely still waited until the figure moved form the doorway. Swiftly while the person's back was turned he grabbed his mask and placing unto his face, waited like a big cat ready to strike.

" So Christine, do you have anything I can use against you?" A hoarse laugh punctuated by a fit coughing told Sherlock who it was. She was rummaging in Christine's drawers and Sherlock grimaced at the huge silhouette in front of him. Using everything he knew, Sherlock slithered out from under the blankets and unto the floor where he crouched there from a second before slipping to the open door.

" Oh, she does my dear. She does." He spoke calmly as he shut the door extinguishing the light on Carlotta's terrified face at the sight of him.

The Opera house morning was pierced by a blood-chilling scream that rang throughout the house. Carlotta was actually running, much to the shock of everyone as she ran straight to the manager's room.

" Christine knows the Opera Ghost!" Sherlock watched as Carlotta burst into the room with other astounding acclamation. He laughed as Carlotta cowered under his spell.

"She knows him I swear." She whispered her eyes red and her face pale with fear. " I saw him in her chambers. He told me that if anyone lays their filthy hands upon her they would be cursed forevermore." She burst into tears as her pudgy body fell with a thump onto the hardwood floor. He could see the chairs of the managers' chairs fly back into the wall as they ran to their precious Prima Donna.

" Tell us exactly what happened." Their voices were low, but Sherlock's keen ears heard every word.

" He was there in her room. I went to go and wake her up for this morning's rehearsals, but as soon as I walked into the room, the door closed and behind it he stood." A shudder of fear made her fluff wobble.

" He was uglier than even Buquet said with only half a face. The rest was a polished white skull. His voice was deep and harsh as it hissed over me. But he has claws. Claws I tell you, long and yellow that grew from his hands. And his teeth were pointed like a dog's.

" Carlotta burst into tears again at the memory.

" It was only a dream." Her managers whispered and Sherlock laughed. He watched as they turned to face him.

" I warned you; this is my opera house and heaven help anyone who stands in my way." Sherlock let out another laugh that seemed to paralyze everyone in the room and he vanished.

" Christine." He called to her through her mirror. Now since the entire opera knew that he was protecting her, they couldn't be seen together.

" Christine. Wake up my pet." He called and almost like a puppet master, he raised her from her sleeping home.

" What the…" He could see the confusion on her face as he called to her once more. " I must be going crazy." She muttered and walking over to the screen began to dress in full view of Sherlock. He blushed and quickly turned away, his mind puzzling over m\what she had said. He turned back quickly to see if she was done and that is when he saw it. A scar on the back on her neck about the size of two-joule piece and Sherlock felt his hearts nearly jump out of his chest.

" She is C.I.A?" His mind blanked and watching himself stand from his kneeling position, Sherlock ran. He ran as fast as he could and as long as he could, only to find himself back at Christine's mirror. But as he stared at her, Sherlock realized he didn't move at all. He was still crouched and his body was starting to cramp up on him.

" Christine." It was Meg the little brat that had tried to visit him one time.

" I am coming." Her voice, still melodious had reached a slightly higher octave, which would wreck the singing techniques that he had ground into her. _"I am going to have to teach you all over again, aren't I?"_ His question though said to his heart seemed to echo all around him. Suddenly as if a lighting bolt struck him, Sherlock realized that she wouldn't remember his face, or at least the face under the mask.

"_Oh, I shall teach you again my angel, but this time I make the rules_." He smiled to himself and walked with a deliberate step to his home in the earth.

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And this is how the Phantom of the opera... No spoilers. Anyway R&R Thxs


	7. Part 2 Chapter 1

Part II of Rassilon's Rebel commencing.

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The night air stung his lungs as he ran, ran away from his attackers and ran away from her. Ala, he could see her now being hauled into the hover carrier and they were sending out more men to find him. In his mind her words burned like fire and to ease the pain he ran. Underneath his bare feet the ground was spongy and damp from the recent rainfall as the twin moons gave him plenty of light to see by, but it also helped his attacker see him.

" _If you are being chased at night and you see a tree, climb it before they can see you."_ The words came unbidden to his mind and turning swiftly ran towards the silver woods. Though the trees resembled mercury rods in the frozen air, the canopy was too thick to allow someone to actually see in the gloom. Reaching the trees he leapt like a squirrel into the nearest and shinned through the branches farther into the forest. Suddenly a branch broke underneath him…

The Doctor awoke in a feverish sweat, his sheets sticking to damp body. Shaking his head to clear the dream, he stood and pulled on his pants.

The air was cool when he walked unto the terrace to admire the suns rise. Down below, there were a couple of young boys practicing a few moves that even he had to learn. Out of the gloom came the grandmaster and the Doctor made a slight bow with head. But it was the man that stood behind the grandmaster that surprised the Doctor. There stood the one Gallifreyan who was referred to as the Master with a grin as wide as could possibly on his face. Suddenly the grandmaster waved the Doctor from his eagle perch and the Doctor promptly obeyed.

" Doctor." The old man's voice was a soft tenor that had been deepened slightly by age. " Grandmaster." Bowing completely this time, he heard a snort of arrogance. The Doctor felt a sudden surge of anger flow through him, this man whoever he was thought he was greater that the Doctor.

" _Oh, I'll show him."_ The words came from his heart violently and he saw the grandmaster smile.

" This here is one of our new recruits. Would you mind showing him the ropes?" The question hung in the morning air enticingly and the Doctor snatched with a quick yes. The two younger boys had cleared the training mat for the Doctor and the Master, but they were waiting for the judgment duel to begin.

The duel was designed to test the skills you have already acquired throughout one's lifetime. Many of the pupils here were partially trained in the Art the Doctor though was not. His father forbade him to be taught because he thought it would cut into the study time he had to have every day. When he came here though, after trail and tribulation in the wilds, starved and half frozen, he had ranked highest in the class. Now it was time see what this bastard could do. Taking his stance, the Doctor stared down his opponent with his startlingly blue eyes.

" Begin." The word echoed through the Doctor and he watched his opponent carefully with a well-trained eye. They circled for a time, each waiting for the other to make the attack when the Master suddenly stopped and turned to address the grandmaster. The Doctor lunged, his body untwisting from his stance like a snake and with a swift motion to the back of leg brought the Master to the ground.

" Never take your eyes off of your opponent. Lesson one." He hissed in the Master's ear and he helped the man up. " Again." The Doctor instructed and the Master flew forward quickly trying to catch the Doctor off guard, only to land flat on his face with the Doctor laughing madly behind him. He glared at the younglings who were also laughing at him and picking himself up twisted and ran at the Doctor. A swift blow to the torso and he went sprawling once more in the dirt.

" This one is stubborn." The Doctor laughed as the master tried again, his body powering the blow and the Doctor smiled as he came forward. Only then did the Master realize it was too late. He tried to pull out of the motion but as he pulled out the Doctor grabbed the collar of his shirt and threw him across the courtyard. The Master hurt all over, every muscle in his body ached but he was ready to go another round when he saw the hand signal.

" So what do think, Doctor?"

" He is stubborn, but a quick learner. If he is willing, I would be glad to make him a member of my regiment." The Master smiled wearily as the Doctor came over to him and taking the necklace he wore from his neck gave it the Master.

" Your tags. Wear them with pride." The Doctor stated simply and walked away leaving the Master in a stupefied daze.


	8. part 2 chapter 2

The Doctor felt any rage he had for this man fade as he walked to the path that led into the valley below. From the very top of the steps, you could see for miles over the Forbidden Mountains and if you had very keen eyesight, you could even see the faint glimmer of the Citadel in the distance. From the corner of his eye, the Doctor picked the glimmer up and a sharp pang of homesickness came up. He tamped it down quickly with a few deep breaths. He knew he could never go back there; he would be caught and become the lab rat that they turned Ala into. A small shudder of fear raced to the pit of his stomach where it sat there and a sense of dread overcame the normally relaxed Doctor. He started to run down the steps instead of walking. He felt as if he was being chased by Death itself as he ran, adrenaline racing like poison through his blood. His bare feet soon felt the damp earth of the valley as he ran through the peach fields and all the way to the edge of the waterfall and off of it. Streamlining his body, the Doctor hit the icy water feet first and plunging down farther than imaginable, began swimming towards a set of underwater caves. For what seemed like ages, the Doctor reached the cavern that he had called his own. Crawling out of the pool, the Doctor lay down on the cool gravel bank and closed his eyes slowly.

She was there, but different. Ala was strapped to a metal table as medical staff surrounded her. The Doctor wanted to run over and pull them aside and free her. He found though that he couldn't move which aggrieved him even more. Suddenly they parted and he could see all of the work they had done on her. They had forced her to regenerate and now she was sporting a head full of lush dark curls, her face smooth as porcelain and the Doctor could almost see the baby doll like facial expression they placed on her. He felt utterly disgusted.

Changing scenes, he saw her training, her body awkward and almost clumsy as she fought with her Gallifreyan taught martial arts, the same Art that he was learning.

" You need something more elegant and smoother, don't you Ala?" She fell from her position into a heap of tangled limbs. A whip snagged the pale flesh of her exposed right arm and yanked, its metal tip digging into the soft muscle and pulling her upright with a spray of blood. Somewhere deep inside of the Doctor and rage that he never knew could have existed rose and choked him with its black ichor. As the Doctor watched as the years went by, the Doctor noticed that she did get better, but not as much as she should have; at least she was able to defend herself if needed. Soon fifty years of her training, medical experiments and intellect enhancers, the Doctor saw her begin her first mission. Yet unlike the other scenes where he observed her, he could actually hear them talking.

Ala was standing in a white room, her black clothing a transition that kept the Doctor's eyes from burning in their sockets. She was talking to someone through a speaker in the far wall, her voice slightly higher pitcher than he remembered.

" You know your mission, Agent 24601 and by the end of the year I want his head on a platter. Do you understand me?"

" Yes, sir. One question though sir?"

"What is it?" The metallic voice left a sour taste in the Doctor's mouth every time he heard it. " Would you like his head on a pewter or a silver platter?" The Doctor smiled, she still was Ala, deep inside where the brainwash couldn't reach. The conversation came to an abrupt end and the world the Doctor saw darkened until he was back in the cave. Sitting up, the Doctor knew what he had to do to save her.

* * *

I heard the song, its ancient music calling to me like a mother does a child. Though there were no words I felt my feet want to dance with every beat of the drum. Out of the darkness that surrounded me, a couple of cats appeared followed by even more. I honestly didn't know how I knew they were called cats since we didn't have any on Gallifrey, but I did and they called to me.

" Come and dance. Come and play. Come and sing." Their merry voices reminding me of a bunch of children.

" But I am a Timelord." I whispered quietly and they laughed. " Well, someone has lost their name has she?" It was a black and white tom that danced around me and rubbed his thin tail under my chin. He suddenly stood on two legs and staring at him, I could see the resemblance to a Gallifreyan in his face. Looking around, I saw that they all looked more Gallifreyan than most Gallifreyans.

" Come and join us sister." The tom held out his hand to me and I reached out hesitantly. Even from that far away I could feel the heat coming from his slim body. " Who are you?" The question came from my mouth abruptly and the tom smiled.

" Well, I go by Munkustrap." He slid smoothly behind me. " That over there is Victoria." He pointed at a pure white cat that seemed to glow with an almost unearthly beauty. " Over there is Rumpelteaser and his twin Mungojerrie." I saw to hands shoot up and wave frantically at me. As my eyes wandered over each, another tom came over to greet me, his amber eyes flickering in amusement.

" I see that you missed me Munkustrap." He smiled a predatory smile at the tom that was standing behind me. " Anyway, my name is Rum Tum Tugger." He bowed and I snickered.

" You want to talk about a mouthful." I didn't even see his hand fly up until I felt his claws pinch the sensitive skin of my cheeks. " I would be very careful. Do you hear me?" He whispered and he let go slowly.

" An what are you going to do huh? Annoy me?" I shrugged, and his upper lip curled into a snarl." You heard what I said. Maybe I should teach you what it means."

" Both of you stop it this instant!" Munkustrap's voice roared with an alarming capacity and instinctively I sank to the ground. I smiled as Rum Tum Tugger also went to his knees.

" Now," Munkustrap sighed quietly. " We are going to play nice do you understand me?" We both nodded and he smiled. Reaching down, he took my hand and slowly drew me up.

" Welcome sister; Welcome home."

* * *

Yes,pulling from the play Cats. it will all come together I promise.


	9. Part 2 chapter 3

"The mental simulation is working. She will be ready in the next couple of hours." Rassilon smiled as he watched the brain scan on the screen changed from a pale yellow to a neon blue. As he stared at the screen though, his mind wandered back to a time when he had his little girl, his princess. She used to be so perfect, her white hair glistened in the sun and her gold eyes were so full of passion and innocence. "Sir, should I prepare her for a through cleansing?"

" No. We need to make sure he doesn't see a change in her. Keep it simple and soon he will be ours." And with that he left the room.

* * *

Sherlock wandered through his opera house making sure that his kingdom was safe; a solitary guard against the dark. " _Oh, Christine_?" He had reached her mirror and staring out into the gloom of the room he felt his hearts contract painfully in fear. She wasn't in the room at all. As Sherlock frantically tried to figure out what happened he heard the creak of a floorboard outside her door and he knew that wasn't Christine's step to come in. Sherlock never moved so fast in his life; his feet made no sound as he ran through the tunnels. Coming out from underneath the Athena statue at the grand staircase, he quietly shut it and went to run up the stairs when he came face to face with a shadowy figure standing at the top of the stairs. Sherlock blinked, his body frozen on the spot.

" Who are you?" He managed to whisper and a sharp laugh echoed over the moonlit marble. " Oh, you should know who I am." The voice made Sherlock's nerves crawl

" I don't believe we have met." Sherlock stated and the figure laughed again. " You know me Erik." The figure's voice changed to mimic Christine and Sherlock felt dull anger spread throughout his body. " Come in to the moonlight. I want to see your face." Sherlock growled and the figure obeyed with a graceful step towards the lip of the stairs. As the silver light shone upon the man Sherlock gasped audibly and he saw the figure smile.

" Who are you?"

" I think you know Sherlock. I am you; or at least the part you that you won't let your precious Christine see." The man was now at the bottom of the stairs and Sherlock saw the black half mask on his face, but unlike Sherlock he wore on the left side not on the right.

" How can you be me?"

" I am the part that you will never show her the part that you will always have deep inside, the part…" Sherlock fist curled and he went to knock the man out but instead he was met not with flesh, but with thin air.

" You think that you can hurt me? You hurt me; you hurt yourself in the process. Maybe if you show me to your Christine…"

" I will never show you to her. She doesn't need you any more than I need you." Sherlock snarled and the figure laughed. " So what do I call you?"

" Well, if you are the Phantom of the Opera; then you can call me the Opera Ghost." Sherlock laughed. " You think your me don't you?" The man smiled and shrugged his shoulders. " No, I don't think I am you, I am you. Just wait and see." And with that he faded. Sherlock shook his head trying to clear it when a sharp pain exploded from underneath his ribs on his right side. Turning, he went to see what happened, he felt himself pulled down and the sharp blade of knife being pressed to his neck.

" Maybe I should take your place. It would be fitting wouldn't it? Me, becoming you, allowing the world to see who the real Phantom of the Opera is." Sherlock elbowed the man in the stomach and he felt it connect to flesh. He felt the blade slide from his neck and twisting nearly collapsed from the pain. Grabbing his side, Sherlock felt his blood, hot and slimy, meld to his hand. Pulling his hand free, he reached fro his sword, only to discover it was gone.

" Looking for something?" The Ghost had it in his hand and Sherlock felt rage burn through him and with a roar leaped for the man. The world seemed to slow as Sherlock moved, he could see fear in the man's eyes as he turned and ran, leaving Sherlock to crash in a painful heap on the floor. He sat up groaning as he placed his hand back on his wound.

" Fine, you can keep the damn sword. I don't care." He hissed and crawled back into the tunnels after he cleaned his blood from the marble. Leaning against the wall, Sherlock felt himself beginning to feel sleepy and he went to make his way to his home, when a soft murmur of words caught his attention.

" I will always be there Sherlock. Always." And Sherlock fell to his knees in the passageway as the darkness closed around him like Death's ebony cloak.

* * *

New character and Christine is being brainwashed. R&R please. Much appreciated. =)


	10. Part 2 Chapter 4

Sherlock awoke in his own bed with a start. Staring around his furnished apartment in awe, he quickly ran over the events of the night before in his head. _" So how in the hell did I get here?"_ When a sudden crash from the other room made him literally fly from his bed. His bare feet hit the stone floor with cat like grace and padding softly to the door, opened it. The well-oiled hinges behaved and the door opened without a squeal and Sherlock saw from the small space he created, a man in black clothing, very much like his own, sitting at his organ. His long fingers were placed upon the keys, but Sherlock's instrument refused to play for him. Sherlock smiled to himself; he had replaced all the ivories with ones that had genetic markers which made it so no one but him, could play in his kingdom. Sherlock leaned closer for a better look; the door opening a tiniest of fraction more, to hit a small bell that was tied to the door frame. A soft ring emanated through the cavern and the man sat up straight and with the flutter of his black cloak moved into the shadows to disappear. The sudden vanishing act the man did made Sherlock blink in surprise; he, the prince of illusions, just saw a magic trick he himself couldn't figure out. Reaching up, he tore the bell from its fastening and walked out of the room. Quickly Sherlock made an inventory of his home; nothing was missing, but something had been left behind. It was a piece of sheet music that bore his handwriting, yet Sherlock didn't remember writing it.

" My God, I am being haunted. " He said out loud, his voice resonating throughout, when a sharp burst of laughter, which made him cringe, replied. " _I will always be there Sherlock. Always."_

" I am not going to let you win. This is my kingdom and no matter what you do, I shall remain!" Sherlock cried, anger flooding his voice and sitting down at his organ, began to play.

He didn't know what he played, or even how long he played, but Sherlock played and played with fervor until his fingers started to bleed. Yet he kept playing until the pain became truly unbearable and the keys were now tinted red with blood.

" What is wrong with me?" And somewhere deep inside Sherlock wanted some else but Echo to answer him in return. Slumping forward, he placed his head in his hands, leaving bloody streaks on his face and let the tears fall. They didn't burn like they normally did; they were cool and refreshing, just like Christine's voice that was floating through his home… floating through his home. Sherlock sat up; his keen ears picking up her sweet voice, now untempered by his touch, move like a angel " _Or a ghost"_ He thought to himself, through the Opera House's air ducts. At first he couldn't place the song she was singing, but after a moment of contemplation, he gasped in shock. It was the song he sang to her when she falling asleep, before she knew who he was.

_" So you do remember me my angel."_ He felt relieved and wiping the blood from his face and fingers, quickly made his way up to her.

Even when it was untaught, it still sounded beautiful to him. Her voice was as pure as the moonlight on the snowy mountains. " Christine?" Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. That wasn't a female voice, that was a male's voice and it was a voice he had never thought he would hear again.

" My Lord President." He could hear Christine's shock, but he also heard anger in it. " Please stand." Sherlock moved softly to Box Five, his bare feet making no sound of the scarlet carpet. Shutting the curtains, he stood by the pillar of Prometheus and watched as Rassilon drew Christine up by her hands. " My dear, you have a lovely voice. Who taught you how to sing?" But instead of answering him, Christine merely shrugged, much to Sherlock's relief. " Well I think that instead of Carlotta singing tonight, why don't you?" Sherlock could see Christine's face drain of blood from were he was standing and with a curt nod told the Lord President all he needed to know.

" So I presume you know all of the songs then?" Another nod." Then be ready for your debut, for tonight I shall be here and I don't want to be disappointed." He touched her chin lightly and Christine gazed in his eyes with trepidation. But the moment was over as soon as it began and curtseying to bid him a good morning, Christine ran off stage as soon as Rassilon's back was turned. Sherlock soon followed; his feet pounded the stone like a drum to the chapel where he knew Christine would be hiding.

" What do I do now? The Lord President asking me to sing for him when I can't sing at all? Oh what am I gong to do?" The tears flowed freely from her chocolate eyes making Sherlock ache with the urge to comfort her.

" _My child, why are you crying?"_ Sherlock murmured, his voice smoothly wrapping Christine in it. Christine flinched, startled by him and asked who he was. _" I have no name, but I am here to help you." _

" So you are my guardian angel then?" Sherlock wanted to laugh. Christine was smarter than this, but from the look on her face, she didn't know what was going on. _" You could call me that if you wish, I am only here to help you." _She smiled and Sherlock felt a pressure release from around his heart that he didn't know he had.

" Alright Erik…" Sherlock's heart stopped. She remembered his nickname; the one she gave him the first time around. " Can you help me with tonight? I am supposed to sing for the Lord President, but I can't sing. Personally I think I sound like toad." This time Sherlock did laugh and Christine catching on laughed too. _" Well my little toad; let's see if by tonight I can turn you into a nightingale shall we? _

* * *

R&R my friends, i am much obliged.


	11. Part 2 Chapter 5

The Opera house was full of people and the scent of perfume and cologne. Sherlock watched from his perch as the rich Gallifreyans poured like a black and pink sludge through the doors. In his hands was a bottle of sore throat reliever that was tainted with chloroform for Carlotta. It was just in case, but the managers wouldn't go against the Lord President. Suddenly down below him, Sherlock watched as the crowd parted to allow the entrance of Rassilon. Sherlock snarled quietly; he hated the man with passion and somewhere in the back of Sherlock's mind, he knew that he wanted to kill the Lord President. He watched as the men and women around him bowed with an almost hilarious fashion. At this angle Sherlock could see right up the skirts and dresses of many of the old ladies into the places he himself had not yet delved, but wished he could.  
" That shall only happen when I am with Christine." He made that vow the day he saw her and never forgot it. Suddenly Rassilon looked up to the ceiling and right into Sherlock's eyes. He instinctively crouched lower, willing himself to blend into the beam. He could see the small smile that played out his lips before he turned and began his way up the grand staircase with his entourage of the rich, into see the opera.

" I don't want to do this." Madame Giry merely smiled sadly and patted my hand. " I know you don't my dear, but if it what the Lord President wills, that you shall sing." I sighed. After being told that, my appointment with destiny had spread like a wild fire through the Opera House, only to coalesce with Carlotta and the rumor that I was sleeping with the Lord President.

" You know that can't be true." Meg kept telling me after being taunted about it by more than one person.

" I know Meg, but his face," I examined his face once more in my mind. " It just seems so familiar to me as if…" I laughed.

" What so funny?" I smiled at Meg. " As if he was my father. But doesn't that sound absurd?" Meg shrugged. " You know no one actually knows what happened to Alatáriël. Hell, you may be her for all we know and that is the reason you're singing tonight."

" Maybe I am. " I shrugged. " Maybe not. But I don't care who I am as long as I have you Meg."

A sudden knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts as Madame Giry opened it. There in the doorway stood Raoul; he was dressed the latest fashion for men called a tuxedo. Personally I thought it made him look like the Earth creature called a penguin.

" Sir, you cannot be here." Madame Giry gently told him as she was trying to pry him from the way of the door shutting and I laughed. " Its alright Madame Giry, he is an old school friend." With a tilt of the head, she let Raoul in and exiting the room, left me alone with him.

" Well, someone looks beautiful tonight Christine." He crooned and I blushed. But as I did, something deep inside told me that he wasn't allowed here. He wasn't my mate and that meant he couldn't be in here alone with me. A sharp pain on my lower lip made me cry out slightly and Raoul gave a look of alarm as he came to me. " Are you alright?" His concern for me was faked I could tell but I went along with it. " I'm fine. I just bit my lip that's all."

" I could tell by the blood running down you chin." He reached into his pocket and withdrawing a handkerchief, gave it to me. I quickly wiped the blood off and started to hand it back to him, when something told me inside that I should keep it. Actually a voice told me to keep it and when Raoul saw that I still had it, smiled. " I just want to keep it incase I start bleeding again. Now shoo, I want to finish getting ready." And with a playful shove, pushed him towards the door.

" Alright my little Lottie. But I'll be back later to retrieve that." He nodded to the hankie and I smiled sweetly. And with that he was gone with the click of the door latch. Sitting down at my vanity I began applying makeup, each movement delicate, as a gust of cool wind made my dress swirl around my ankles. I went to glance up, but a sharp word of command bade me not to.

" Erik." I sighed. I honestly hadn't expected my teacher to be here. Surely he had to job of teaching the other angels to sing, right?

_" Yes it is me my… _" He paused.

" What is it?" Sherlock was still recovering from choking on the last word. " It is nothing my dear. Nothing you need to worry about. He had almost said it, almost blew his cover, but he wanted to at that moment.

" Are you here to wish me luck?" Christine's playful tone made him smile and he did with a gaze of longing over her bare shoulders and neck.

" _In a way yes. I actually came to give you something."_ He watched from his shadowed corner behind her as she smiled. Sherlock came through the mirror and was currently sitting on her bed, which couldn't be illuminated by small lamp she had with her.

" What is it?"

" _You must close your eyes Christine for if you gaze upon an angel…"_ He stopped himself, but she had already closed her eyes and was facing him. " I understand. You will vanish, never to visit me again." The factual statement made Sherlock relax a bit. Standing, he walked over to her, his polished dress shoes making no noise on the wooden floor. Kneeling in front of Christine, Sherlock gazed at this porcelain doll he fell in love with. " Well?" Sherlock chuckled. _" So impatient,"_ He tapped her gently on the nose. " _Learn patience by the time I see you next."_ She smiled and Sherlock wanted to tell her to open her eyes, but stopping himself, stood. Leaning forward, he gently placed kiss on her pale cheek next to her ear.

" _Good luck my love."_ He whispered and was gone with a flash of Christine's surprised reaction.

Rassilon sat in Box Five with intense interest at the patrons below him. Asking his daughter to sing for him, seemed to be an almost impossible task, but he went through with the plan. Out of the corner of his eye, Rassilon saw thumbs up from Raoul and relaxing a bit, started to watch the curtain rise.

It was Sleeping Beauty and Christine didn't appear until Act Two, but Rassilon, watched the play anyway. When Christine came on, the house was all quiet, until she started to sing "Once Upon a Dream". Her voice was absolutely stunning and it was pitched perfectly to hit everyone in the crowd with ease. When the song ended though, Rassilon saw her face turn pale and with a flourish of her arm, she fell into a faint on stage. He was on his feet instantly and down the stairs into the bowels of the Opera house.

" Doctor, how is she?" Rassilon barged through the door with a sense of terror, affirming Carlotta's rumor even more. " She is fine my Lord President. But do you hear how she sang?" Rassilon nodded haphazardly, when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. " My Lord, Let me take care of her." And with a sigh Rassilon stood allowing Raoul to take his place.

" _Remember."_ The look was cold. _" I do my Lord_." And with a nod began acting like a lovesick youth patting Christine's hand and rubbing her arm. Rassilon walked out with a smile a cruelty on his face.

I awoke to see the Opera House's doctor and not surprisingly Raoul. " What happened?" I coughed and I saw worry pass of Raoul's face. " You fainted. Do you remember?" I shook my head no and allowed my head to fall back unto the pillows. He smiled again. " Well, I guess you want your handkerchief back?" I smiled hopefully but he nodded no. " You keep it. Picture it as my first gift from me to you. Now since your feeling better. I'll be back to take you to supper." I choked on the water the doctor gave to drink and coughing told Raoul no.

" My teacher wouldn't permit it." I was frank, but Raoul just laughed. " Well, I shant keep you up late. Two minutes little Lottie." And he was gone form my dressing room once more, followed by the doctor and everyone else. Standing, I grabbed my nightclothes, a pair of boxer shorts I stole from the cargo shipment for an opera and a tank top. Steeping behind my changing screen, I stripped out of the heavy dress and keeping my bottoms and bra, dressed in my sleep wear and waited for Raoul to return.

The time seemed to tick by, seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours as I waited, practicing patience as my Erik told me to.

" _Christine_" Sherlock watched as she jumped and glanced at the door. He called out to her again, and this time she bolted upright with a look of anger on her face. " So are you making sure I was practicing patience?" Sherlock didn't respond at first, but calling out her name again, began to step to wards the mirror. He watched as her eyes grew wide as she saw him through the mirror, mask and all. _" Come with me Christine and I will show you the heart of music. _ Sliding open the mirror, smiled as she took his hand, the black leather soft and supple between the two, and walking slowly, Sherlock drew her deeper into his kingdom.

I kept glancing at this masked man who was supposedly my angel, but he was too solid to be a corporeal being. As we walked, his body moved almost like cat, his muscles tensing and relaxing with ease. I wanted to say so much, ask so many questions, but I found I couldn't. Soon we came to a small boat with chrome detailing that made me smile. I always like shiny things and this was no exception. The boat bobbed a bit as we stepped into it, but as soon as Erik began to push it along with his pole, it felt like I was flying over the water. Gazing around me, I could discern the pillars and cathedral roofing above me, which only added to the enchantment.

" Welcome to my home." He whispered and gazing around the bend, was hit by a memory I never thought I had. Suddenly something clicked and with a gasp studied the apartment. It was cluttered with papers and other items, many of them being instruments, and in the front of it all was a giant organ.

" What in the hell happened here?" I didn't mean to say it, but it just slipped out and I heard the man's breath hitch. " You have been here before?" Erik asked and I gave him small shrug. "It seems that I have, but I can't remember when."

" We'll figure it out I suppose." He muttered and I smiled. As we got close the shore, I went to shift my weight, when the boat suddenly tipped and I thrown out into the water. It was cold. My entire body felt as if I had just had a massive brain freeze. Standing, I found myself in my angel's arms, his body warm against mine.

" I think I'll give you the tour tomorrow." He murmured and easily picked me up out of the water. Carrying me into the bathroom proceeded to grab a bath towel and dry me off as if I was child. But I was happy. A man who was extremely handsome and well versed was caressing me with a soft towel.

" Thank you." I smiled as a yawn escaped and once more he picked me up, my head placed against his shoulder. I could hear his heart beat clearly as he carried me into his bedroom. " You have a great smell." I told him half a sleep as he set me in the bed and went to wrap the covers around me. " I thank you my dear." I didn't know why, but when he spoke like that, it made him sound older. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him down to me. " Spend the night with me."

" That I will do. He murmured and with a rustle of the sheets, I felt his warm body pressed once more against mine and quietly I fell asleep.

* * *

I believe this will make up for the lack of posting and if it gets rough at the end sorry. I am extremely tired but R&R please . =)


	12. Part 2 Chapter 6

Sherlock awoke once more in his own bed. For the first time in many years did he actually sleep in the same place twice in row. Stretching, he suddenly felt something very cold on his bare feet and with a hiss, kicked it away. Suddenly Sherlock jumped and reaching his hand over to kill the damn thing, he remembered the night before. Below his right arm, curled against his body, was Christine. Her brown hair was plastered to her forehead and her long lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she dreamed.

" No. Let me go you bastards. Father, don't let them take me. FATHER!" Christine's scream made Sherlock jump once more and he quickly wrapped his arms around her. " Shhh. I have you, Ala. Its all right I'm here." Sherlock murmured and Christine calmed, her breathing becoming normal and smooth. " _Ala? Why did I say Ala?"_ The question made Sherlock wonder quickly about his mind. He knew that Ala was dead. He saw her fall all those years ago in the alleyway ad he saw her die there.

So why did I call you Ala?" He studied Christine with a well-trained eye and saw the reason why he called her Ala. They had the same type of facial features, especially the list, but he could tell other features such as the straight nose and the way her eyes curved into delicate almonds. Sherlock sighed. " No wonder." Sherlock hauled himself out of bed. He had fallen in love the first time he had seen Ala and this girl, his Christine could be her sister they looked so similar. Throwing on his jacket, Sherlock slipped on his shoes and went to rustle up some grub for Christine and himself before she awoke.

* * *

" YOU WHAT?" Rassilon's voice thundered through the small office making the bottles of Gallifreyan history he loved so much; rattle. In front of him was Raoul, who was now cringing in terror in front of him. " I'm sorry I was too late. The bastard already had her. I couldn't do anything." Suddenly Rassilon stood and slapped Raoul, hard.

" I told you, she need to go with you tonight. Not with that manic and you had to leave the room and go check on your ride." Raoul was sitting o the floor, blood flowing from his split lip.

" I'm sorry. I thought…"

" That's your problem Raoul. You thought. Now you have one more chance and you better get it right this time." Rassilon hissed and with a wave of his hand chased Raoul from the room.

* * *

Sherlock sat at his organ his mind wandering over what he was going to say when Christine awoke. Suddenly he heard a soft noise from the other side of the apartment and grabbing his letter opener, he threw it. A squeal from the darkness told Sherlock that he hit a rat.

" Well, at least I have one less rat." He whispered and turning back to his organ nearly fell from the bench in fright. In front of him, was Sherlock's ghost. " Well, at least you have dinner for you and Ms. Lovely." He cackled and Sherlock went to grab for the legs, but the man vanished.

" I honestly didn't think you bring her down here, but you must be desperate."

" Desperate?" The man smiled and Sherlock's eyes widened in realization. " Oh no, I won't even think of such perverse thoughts until we are truly together."

"Then what about last night?" Sherlock scowled. " That was an accident. I was asleep."

" With Christine. " The man's smile grew even bigger and Sherlock backed off. " I know, I know, but at least I was subtle about it."

" Not that much." The man chuckled and began walking over to Sherlock's bedroom. " That is off limits. If you are in my house, that room is off of the menu."

" What am I a dog or something?" Sherlock smiled. " No your worse than a dog. You're a rat. Now get out of my house."

" Fine. But I am telling you that you won't be able to hold back and when you have her underneath you, you'll realize that is nothing more than a puppet on your string." And with the warning ringing in his ears, Sherlock watched his ghost disappear. Turning back to his organ, Sherlock sat there and ran over the man's warning in his head. His head hit his hands once more and he sighed.

" Now what am I going to do?"

* * *

R&R


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